


Arsonist's Lullaby

by Pixeled



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Character Death, Fire, M/M, fire worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 21:57:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15470964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixeled/pseuds/Pixeled
Summary: As a child, fire fascinated Ardyn.For dustofwarfare, my eternal RP partner and fellow ArdyNoct shipper.





	Arsonist's Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dustofwarfare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/gifts).



Breathing in smoke and exhaling it, Ardyn watched Noctis with yellowed tar eyes, letting the scourge become him, settling in his bones and creaking, expanding and shifting his shape. It had been a while since he had let it feast and he had let it consume its fill finally in what seemed like eons. The creatures around him shuddered in fear and respect, his legs outstretched over the heads of two tonberries whom he cooed to, rubbing their green crowns as he sat upon the throne to Insomnia. It pained him to be so close to the crystal, the source of all his anguish, but the cigarette pressed between his lips eased some of his ire, and of course, watching Noctis make his way to him made his soul brighten and his purpose was singular. Ah, he thought, my end and my one true brother. What a lovely thought that Noctis could end him. It had been so many years since he’d had a challenge and he was beginning to yearn for it. To know he could potentially meet his end, ah, what a treat. He gleefully flicked the cigarette he’d been smoking, the cherry lighting up a spot on the ground in a lightless place. The glow from his eyes was the only source of it, illuminating a swath down the royal throne. Ardyn had learned long ago how to see in the dark, but he knew Noctis did not have his particular “gifts”. That only came with death, or rather, what was this existence. He never knew what to call it—it was between life and death.

 

It was irony that he sat upon the throne. It was promised to him, once. He had been close, in truth, but such burdens were not fated to him. He had other burdens. You couldn’t call what Ardyn had an eternal life, but rather an eternal death. And though he’d been buried and left to rot, he’d risen from his grave and was now living out his revenge. Oh, no one who’d wronged him was alive to see it, but destroying the crystal and ending Noctis’s life would be oh so sweet. To see hope wash from that youthful face, and the doom of Eos come into fruition, that would be the cherry on Ardyn’s cake of self-indulgence.

 

Noctis was so close he could smell him, his fear, his hopes and dreams. There was no one by his side now. It was his journey alone. And when Noctis stepped his feet into the throne room, Ardyn was ready.

 

“Ah, the king arrives at last,” Ardyn said, letting fire play over his hands and doused the room in it, lighting the torches and burning the tapestries. The room glowed, fire dancing over Ardyn’s sharp features. He’d made it so that Noctis was without his entourage, had brought doom upon his every compatriot, and had murdered his lady love, the one he was fated to be with. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but Noctis was _his_ by all rights, and his alone. Perhaps in an age long ago he would have sympathized with Lady Lunafreya, him being a healer and chosen to commune with the gods, but now he challenged the gods and had rid himself of all traces of his past but for one thing: he was the rightful king, and Noctis would succumb to him.

 

Noctis looked lovely and sullen in the light of the flames as they consumed the throne room, his eyes accusatory. Ah, but how he loved to see that look. As a veritable harbinger of death, he’d had nothing but those looks cast his way, but there was something different in Noctis’s eyes—the hint of a challenge that could rival that of any other opposing force. Not even the gods could rid him of his eternal life. But this man, this one man—ah, but he could smite him down. It was intoxicating and he breathed in the scent of hatred, chuckling darkly to himself.

 

“I’m here,” Noctis said, his body tense. “You have my attention.”

 

“I bloody well should,” Ardyn said smoothly. “All those you love have been taken away from you, and I am the source of all your anguish. I had hoped you’d come and exact your revenge.” Here he called the tonberries away, carefully cooing at them, shuffling his feet so they were crossed upon the throne, his body language lazy and calculated. “Do come and try it.”

 

Noctis was a fire burning more brightly than any traces of it in the room, his eyes shining with hatred and remorse.

 

Ardyn began to hum a little lullaby—one that was popular in his youth, cocking his hat on his head and letting his eyes bleed tar, his smile a black mess across his lips. When Noctis didn’t move he slouched forward and rested his hands on his thighs, his smile turning more sinister, the hum reaching a crescendo, mocking, coaxing, fingers flicking to beckon him near.

 

The throne was a place Noctis had been fighting to win this whole time, but what was in it now? Just his death. A sacrifice. And for what? Eos? Eos was a crumbling pile of ash, and Ardyn had made it so. To banish the dark was Noctis’s goal, but he’d soon find that Ardyn would not let him.

 

Finally, Noctis walked closer.  Ardyn laughed.

 

“You realize, dear Noctis, that tonight, no matter what happens, you will perish,” Ardyn hummed cheerfully.

 

“It’s you who will cease to be,” Noctis spat. Ardyn clapped his hands together giddily, eyes shining.

 

“Yes, that fire, I truly enjoy it. Do continue to threaten me. I find it quite charming,” Ardyn smiled genuinely.

 

Noctis called upon his armigier, blue shining in the low light as he slashed a blade forward, eyes seething.

 

“Ah, but it’s not a fight I crave from you, dear Noctis, but for you to see that we are brothers, you and I.” He called upon his own armigier, the reddish hue lighting on his ashen skin, and then he called upon his humanity and became a man once more.

 

“You’re not my brother,” Noctis spat. “I’ll kill you,” he said, throwing his blade and warping close to Ardyn, dragging the tip along Ardyn’s throat. Ardyn only laughed and called upon his own blade, which screeched fire across Noctis’s. Ardyn used his free hand to lightly trace the features of Noctis’s face, the pad of his thumb running along his jaw.

 

“When I was a child,” Ardyn said, sadness creeping into his voice, “I would stare into the flames. I always was drawn to fire, though I was a healer, an Oracle, and I would shiver at the smell of gasoline. Now, I embrace the darker part of myself. You should too, Noctis. It feels sinful and wonderful. Think of it, you and I ruling over the darkness as one. All the fire in Eos would be mine, would be ours, and we would watch everything burn at our fingertips.”

 

“You’re insane,” Noctis hissed, fighting furiously to wrest Ardyn’s blade away from him, but Ardyn kept up with him blow for blow.

 

“I am just practical,” Ardyn said, pushing Noctis up against the wall and grabbing him by the throat. “This world was made for us, Noctis. We can rule over the gods, make them shudder and beg at our feet. Stop fighting and give in,” he crooned, lips a mere inch from Noctis’s.

 

But Noctis was not done fighting, and they traded blows with equal fervor. It was a game Ardyn missed, truly. To meet his match was a delight.

 

Noctis spat at his face and laced his blade with fire, stabbing at Ardyn. Ardyn only laughed hard as the blade sank into his flesh and held the fiery blade with naked hands, letting it burn up his arms. The embers glowed upon his skin, melted it and licked at him intimately.

 

“A fitting death,” Ardyn whispered, dragging Noctis closer by the blade and kissed the ring of the Lucii before leaning up to kiss Noctis’s lips deeply. “To be ended with what fascinated me most for my whole life, to be ended by my flesh and bone. A true king you are, my brother.”

 

Noctis only wrenched the blade deeper, let Ardyn burn until he was a beacon in the room, so bright the whole of it glowed. Ardyn stared in fascination as it ended his life and smiled finally as he crumbled upon Noctis’s blade, body folded on the floor. He continued his hum, the lasting lullaby echoing in the room. He dared not scream. And when his voice broke and his body was fully consumed, he parted with Eos finally. It wasn’t what he wanted, but somehow it was what he needed. His body left in a flash of light and, ethereal, he appeared before Noctis as if underwater, his hair streaming from his face and he was naked as the day he came into this world. He stretched his hand out, caressed Noctis’s face. And then he was gone, faded into the nothingness, and into a void.

 

Noctis stood at the throne and collapsed into it. If only for a moment, he would rest his weary bones. And in that moment he truly felt the burden of the ring.

 

But when he stood again, he walked tall toward his fate, his feet carrying himself to the crystal. For as black was the soul of Ardyn, he would be the light.  And that light consumed him.

 

In the end, it was Ardyn’s lullaby that filled his ears as he faded into nothingness.

 

 


End file.
